


Good For You

by ankostone



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2nd person?, Angst, Coming of age kind of, Gen, Hetalia, Mentions of Robul, Not a reader insert, aph bulgaria, aph turkey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 03:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11328138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ankostone/pseuds/ankostone
Summary: Not a reader insert. The you is supposed to be Bulgaria in his own head or something. Bulgaria and Turkey fight about Bulgaria moving out.





	Good For You

Sixteen. Not adult, but not a child either. You can make decisions, but now you get to deal with the consequences. Close your eyes, pretend you haven’t built up a life on lies. 

“What? Suddenly I’m not good enough for ya?!”

Sadik. He took you in. He raised you, brought you up to be the in between you are now. You don’t know how to explain that this isn’t an attack on him, that your leaving isn’t meant to be a message of defiance. You love him, but the dark shadow of a life that haunts over you while under his off white walls prevents you from becoming more than what you could be in life. You could maybe find happiness, if only you weren’t here. If you could be anywhere else. 

“That isn’t it! Quit making this about yourself and think about me!” But all you think about is yourself, isn’t it? Years and years of self-loathing, self-pity. Self-care. Self self self. Selfish. The only self you’ve been unable to obtain is selfless, and self love. 

“What do-I’ve been thinking about you for years!” He screams. His breath his familiar, it’s like cigarettes. You never told him about your habit. He can probably smell it on you too, never saying anything, hoping you would resolve the issue yourself. That’s what sixteen does to you. You have to do things on your own. Even though you’ve never done it before. 

“For years you’ve made me feel guilty for being here!” You explain. And it’s true. Your whole existence is made of guilt. If you could take all the guilt, and throw it away, vomit it from your body, maybe you wouldn’t seem so sad. You may be empty, but empty is better than the tortures that eat away at you. Tortures not meant for sixteen. Hell, not meant for any age. But it’s you who bears sins you didn’t commit. The act of being alive, wasn’t your fault. And you could have rid yourself of such burden plenty of times. But at sixteen, you can never go through with it. 

“Oh, oh so that’s it huh? How in the hell am I supposed to validate your existence every time you fuck up, Dimitri? What? Want me to fix what I can’t see? Want me to feel sorry for the things you hide? It isn’t fair to me! I don’t know jack shit because you hide everything from, but I’m expected to just roll with it?” He asks you. And that’s all too much, too much guilt. You may actually vomit. But you stand straighter. You aren’t anywhere near his height, but you can make yourself look strong, stronger than you feel. 

“No, just don’t do anything and let me leave!” You demand, and for a moment Sadik looks sad. Like he genuinely wants you to stay, that he can’t bare the thought to see you go. But the flash flickers away, and you’re reminded of that parent selfishness that they demand when they tell their children to do something, anything, just because they are the guardian. They don’t care if you fuck up, so long as it’s not on their watch. 

“Let you live on your own? You basically do that here anyways.” That was both of their faults, but Sadik made it seem like it was all your own. Of course you were more content to hide alone, to shield yourself from the world. But it wasn’t like he ever made the effort to break down such barriers. He was just as content to let you sit in darkness and fear as you were. 

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem, god damn it! If you ever, ever wanted to be some semblance of a fucking father, than let me go!” You demand. You don’t like demands, but you stand firm on this one. You know attacking his fatherhood is a below the belt move, but you relish in the hurt that overwhelms the angry brown eyes that have been glaring at you. 

“I, FUCKING love you!” Sadik bellows. And both love and hate seem to envelope that statement. You can’t figure which one is the most abundant. You’ve never quite figured out if the old man truly loved you more than he loathed being a father, or if his discontent in life drowned out his love for you and everything you became. “I have loved you from the moment I met you, don’t try and pretend like I haven’t tried to do everything in my power to love and take care of you!”

“And yet, the only time I have EVER felt loved was when I was far away from you!” A fleeting memory crossed your mind of sitting in the back seat of a car, kissing a boy who made your lips tingle. Was that love? You weren’t sure. But sometimes it felt more than any emotion you had ever managed. You knew that with time, what we perceive as love could be deluded, a firm talk very well could be the truest form of love between a sixteen year old and his father, but you weren’t sure. You couldn’t recall the last time Sadik had said he loved you. Of course he would boast about his amazing son, how gifted you were at design, but that could have all been in the name of having something to brag about. You were never quite sure, since Sadik was just as good at hiding his love for you as you were at hiding yourself from the world. 

Sadik was silent, processing everything. You thought maybe you had won, maybe he would just give up, like a dying man accepting his fate. But then, he had one more, last dying testimony. 

“You want to go? Fine. Go. Be in the world you’ve hide yourself from, I’m sure you will manage just fine.” He said, before turning his back on you. You stare at it a moment, and wonder if this is what’s good for you. But you have to stay strong. You watch him walk away, and with him he drags your chains. But you don’t feel free. For a moment, you don’t feel anything. 

You long to be away, you wish you could stay. But you will never be good enough here. And even if you remain a nothing in the real world, at least you are one in a million, instead of always coming second place to a man who put himself first.


End file.
